Chubby Chaser

by Kahoko Yamada

They funneled back into the elevator and headed up to the second floor, where they kept the players’ lounge (a room with a large flat-screen television, well-stocked refrigerator, and black leather chairs and couches). It was a hangout for the players before and after practices and workouts. The players’ locker room was also on this floor. It was furnished with a steam room, hot tub (why would a bunch of guys want to get into a hot tub together? Maybe they could sneak girls in), communal showers, and, of course, lockers (tall, and featuring combination locks and alternating between red and blue in color).

  On the third floor were meeting rooms for each of the team’s positions and a players’ auditorium for when all of the players came together for meetings. The coaches’ offices occupied the fourth and final floor. Jason and the other players waited in the lobby to meet with their respective coaches, one by one.

  Jason was up first. Coach Hoates led him to Head Coach Petrelli’s office: a shrine to Petrelli’s monumental victories, not only as a coach at SCU but also as a former SCU running back. He had played professional ball, too, for a spell (in the eighties with the San Francisco Forty-niners) but had left the game after blowing out his knees only three years into his career.

  “Ben showed me a tape of your homecoming game against City,” Coach Petrelli said, reclining in his chair behind his desk. “Sent it over on one of these.” He held a smartphone up.

  No wonder Coach Hoates had been on his phone the whole game. Jason used his phone to record videos all the time, so he felt especially stupid for not realizing that’s what Hoates had been doing.

  “I don’t even know how to work this thing,” Coach Petrelli said, waving the phone around, a perplexed expression on his face, “but the school requires that I have it, so what are you gonna do? But enough about this doohickey.” He set his phone down on the desk. “Let’s talk about that game. That was some mighty-fine playing, son. The way you pulled off a win at the last second”—he whistled—“impressive.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Your stats are fucking amazing too.” He opened a file that was on his desk. “Let’s see here. Last year you had forty touchdowns with only four interceptions, passed for thirty-five hundred yards, and rushed for seventeen hundred yards.”

  “Well, I have a really good coach at Tallis. Coach Logan—he deserves a lot of the praise for how good I am.”

  Coach Petrelli smiled at him. “You have a great deal of respect for your coach. I like that. A team is only as good as its coach. Play your cards right, and you could be starting quarterback as early as your sophomore year.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I mean, you are one of the best quarterbacks in the country. Wouldn’t you say so, Ben?”

  “Yeah, definitely one of the best.”

  “You could even go pro one day.”

  Jason was more confused than ever: Coach Hoates and Coach Petrelli were telling him he had what it took to make it, and a part of him wanted to believe every single thing they were saying, but another part of him couldn’t shake what his parents and the academic advisor had said, and he couldn’t understand why. The coaches’ opinions should matter more. They actually knew the game, and they’d actually seen Jason play. But even then, Coach Petrelli had only said that he could become a professional football player, not that he would. A lot of players didn’t make it, and the ones that did didn’t always last. Hell, Coach Petrelli was living proof of that. In Jason’s mind, what had happened to him was worse than not making it at all. Petrelli had been in the NFL, he had been living the dream, and then he had lost it as quickly as he had gotten it. He’d had the potential to be one of the finest running backs in NFL history, but his career had ended before it had even begun. Sure, Coach Petrelli had received a nice consolation prize, being a successful college coach, but that wasn’t shit when compared with being a pro baller. Jason wondered, if he proceeded with football, would Petrelli’s fate be his fate in another twenty, thirty years? Is coaching even something he wanted to do? He imagined himself becoming a coach, guiding young players toward their dreams, and then growing envious and bitter as they achieved what he had failed to. Well, that settled it: coaching was out of the question.

  The last place Borley took the recruits was Howard James Field, so they could see where the football team practiced under good weather conditions, but Jason was so lost in thought over his now-uncertain future that he took no note of it.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The Lake House was an upscale steakhouse on Rodeo Drive that SCU took the recruits to for dinner. The players had gone back to their hotel rooms and changed into something to fit the restaurant’s smart-casual dress code beforehand. Jason had tried to call Eric and then Andy while he had been getting ready for dinner, but neither of them had answered. (They were both on college visits this weekend too: Eric was at U of M with both of his parents, and Andy was at Notre Dame with his mom.) Hell, he had even considered calling Emily—that was how badly he needed someone to talk to about his problems.

  For dinner Jason wore a black dress shirt, black slacks, and black loafers. He was seated in between Jamie and Tim (not the athletic director but another recruit). Jason wasn’t feeling that hungry (he was still musing on his uncertain future), so he simply nibbled on his steak frites and French fries a bit. He ached for a drink, but he wasn’t sure whether it would be appropriate to order one in this setting or whether the restaurant would even serve him.

  “Everything okay?” Jamie asked.

  “Yeah, everything’s great.” He was anything but okay, but he hoped that he had succeeded in coming off as his usual cool-and-confident self and not the insecure loser he was feeling like.

  “I hope you’re all enjoying your dinners,” Borley said.

  The recruits gave him a round of applause.

  “Glad to hear it. We actually have one more event planned for you tonight. A game. The SCU Dragons vs. The UCLA Bruins. So get your doggy bags if you need them, because we will be leaving in twenty minutes for the Coliseum.”

  The recruits gave him another round of applause.

  The Coliseum was the stadium where the SCU dragons played their home games. The sheer size of it astounded Jason: not only was it a lot bigger than the Linc but it also appeared to be big enough to fit his entire town inside it. Borley brought the recruits by the Dragons’ locker room for an introduction before showing them to their seats, which were on the opposite side of the giant monitor relaying the game for the nosebleed sections.

  When the game started, Jason focused primarily on Terrell Roberts and Larry Nicholls. They were the starting quarterbacks for the SCU Dragons and the UCLA Bruins, respectively, and Jason wanted to see how he stacked up against them. Roberts was bigger than Jason, and he had a better arm. And his speed—God, he moved like the Flash out on the field. Nicholls wasn’t as good as Roberts, but he was still better than Jason. How could he ever hope to compete with these guys next year? They were going to wipe the floor, walls, and ceiling with him. Why had Coach Petrelli and Coach Hoates blown smoke up his ass, telling him he could go pro one day when he wasn’t even as good as NCAA players? Wait, why was he thinking these things? He loved challenges (the harder, the better, because he looked more impressive to people when he overcame them). Now here he was—running scared. What was wrong with him?

  “Jason?”

  He turned to find Jamie sitting next to him. “Yeah?”

  “We’re having a party on campus later on at the Phi Beta Gamma Fraternity House, and all the recruits are invited. You wanna come?” Smiling, she put her hand on his forearm and gave it a little squeeze.

  Did he want to go to a college party with a cute college girl that wanted to jump his bones? Hell yeah, he wanted to go. Shit, she didn’t even have to ask. “As long as it’s got you, I’m there,” he said, giving her a sexy smile.

  After the game, Jason returned to his hotel room to change into something less formal for the frat party. He was so excited. Fucking a college ch
ick at a college party was exactly what he needed to get him out of this weird-ass funk he was in. He stepped through the front door of the brick two-story Phi Beta Gamma House, wearing a graphic T-shirt and blue jeans, and ready for the best party ever, only to find himself disappointed: the ultra-cool fraternity party he’d been so eager to attend had ended up being no different from the parties he and his friends hosted. People were drinking liquor, smoking weed and cigarettes, playing beer pong, and listening to music, and according to one of the guys at the party, there were even a bunch of pledges getting spooged on in the basement, just like the freshmen at Eric’s end-of-summer party. This was the one part of college that Jason had hoped would be more elite. Oh well. It was still a party. And it had free booze. And girls. He downed four cups of beer and did a Jello shot as he took in the sights: he didn’t see Jamie, but there were a lot of other girls there, a lot of them much hotter than she was, not to mention the girls he went to school with. Jason wasn’t sure whether it was the warm weather making them want to keep themselves up and in shape or Los Angeles being the entertainment capital of the world luring hot people looking for fame and fortune to it the way a siren lured men, but all the girls he had seen so far were no less than a seven; back home, while there were definitely some hotties, there were also quite a few wildebeests.

  “Hey, Jason.”

  He turned to see Jamie. She had a girl with her. Hella cute. “Hey,” he said, smiling.

  “This is my friend, Kelly.”

  “Hi, Kelly.”

  “Hey,” she said, her voice high and bubbly.

  The smell of their breaths revealed they’d had a few.

  “Damn, this place is noisy. Let’s go somewhere and sit and talk,” Jamie suggested.

  “Uh, all three of us?” Jason asked.

  “Yeah. Is there something wrong with that?” questioned Kelly.

  “Uh, no. Don’t mind me. I’m a little drunk. Let’s go find somewhere quiet to talk,” Jason said, euphoric. He had thought he was going to get lucky with only one girl tonight, but it now looked as though he was going to get to fulfill his greatest fantasy: a threesome. And with two hot college chicks to boot! This completely made up for that crap with Amanda and Emily.

  Jason and the girls grabbed several cups of beer, snaked their way through the crowd, and headed upstairs. They tried to find an empty bedroom but had no such luck. In one room, however, there was only one girl either asleep or passed out in one of the beds, so they decided to camp there.

  “So what do you think of SCU so far, Jason?” Jamie asked.

  “It’s fun, it’s cool,” Jason said, suave.

  “Have you had a chance to do any sightseeing? Jamie said you were from Pennsylvania.”

  “No, we’ve been running him and all of the other boys ragged. This party is the first time they’ve had a chance to do something that wasn’t scheduled.”

  “Oh, poor baby. Well, we hope you’ve had some fun here. We do want you to come back next year.”

  “Things are certainly looking up.” He smiled and took a swig of beer. They were so into him.

  “So do you have a girlfriend, Jason?” Kelly asked.

  “Nope. Single and ready to mingle,” he said.

  “I can’t believe you don’t have a girlfriend. You’re so hot.” Kelly ruffled his hair. “Just like Jamie said.”

  The girls finished their beers. Then they scooted closer to Jason, their movements awkward and clumsy, and kissed him: Jamie was on his lips (her breath was foul, but Jason was too drunk and too horny to care); Kelly was on his neck. Jamie pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him while Kelly pulled down his jeans and boxers. Jamie bent down, allowing her lips to find his again. Kelly went to work on his shaft with her hands, mouth, and tongue. She received backup moments later from Jamie. The sensation of both their tongues and mouths on the shaft, head, and slit of his dick soon proved to be too much for Jason. He pulled Jamie onto his lap and slid himself inside her. Now he was in control of the stimulation. He felt Kelly licking and sucking his balls as he went in and out of Jamie. After a couple of minutes of thrusting, he returned to the brink of ejaculation, so he changed positions again, this time going into missionary. Kelly kept tending to his balls. She moved her tongue up less than an inch; a few flicks, and he exploded inside of Jamie. Fifteen minutes later, Jason wanted to go for another round—now that his dick was back up to snuff—so he could fuck Kelly, but the girls had left to get more beer after he had come, and they had never come back.

  The afterglow of the threesome kept Jason in high spirits until he returned to his hotel room. And then all his fears and doubts crept back into his head. Some new ones also seeped into his brain: Why had Jamie and Kelly taken off so quickly after sex? Had he not been good? If that was it, he hoped they didn’t tell anybody; he intended to come to SCU next year, and he didn’t want his reputation ruined before he even started classes. He called Eric again, in the hopes that a chat with his buddy would pull him out of his depression.

  Eric answered this time. Thankfully. “What up, J?”

  “Guess what I just had?”

  “Diarrhea?”

  “No, fuck face. A threesome.”

  “No way! You’re shitting me!”

  “Nope. Just had it about an hour ago with two college chicks.”

  “What was it like? Did they make out or fuck each other?”

  “It was amazing! And no, they didn’t do anything to each other, but they both sucked my dick at the same time. It was so good I almost came before I got to fuck both of them.” Jason had already lied to his friends once about sex; he might as well keep going.

  “Damn, that sounds fucking sweet! Tell me you recorded that shit.”

  “Man, I wish. I didn’t even think about that. So what about you? You get lucky in Ann Arbor?”

  “Almost. There was this girl with big tits and a phat ass at this bomb-ass frat party who was gonna let me hit it, but she got so fucking drunk she puked all over me. Dumb bitch! I got the hell outta there and went back to my hotel room to take a shower.”

  “So what was the frat party like?” Jason asked, curious to see whether it had been any better than his experience.

  “It was just like my parties, J. You would’ve loved it. Man, I’m gonna have so much fun when I come here next year. But it’s gonna suck being a freshman again.”

  “You think—is that the only thing that bothers you about college, being a freshman again?” Jason beat around the bush with his questioning, because if he had come right out and asked Eric what he really wanted to ask him—aren’t you scared shitless about going away to college and essentially starting your whole life over? Aren’t you worried about not being able to play football on the college level? Aren’t you scared you don’t know what you want to do for the rest of your life?—Eric would have made fun of him and called him a pussy.

  “Yeah. I mean, what else is there to be bothered by? More freedom, more parties, more girls, more beer. No parents, no Scott, no more being stuck at school all day, every day—”

  “That’s because we’ll be living on campus. In dorms.” Jason said dorms with dread and disgust. He still couldn’t get over how awful they had been.

  “I know, it’s gonna be fucking awesome! I can’t wait,” Eric said, oblivious of the tone in Jason’s voice.

  “Yeah, I can’t wait, either, man.” Jason had given up. He clearly wasn’t going to be able to talk to Eric about his concerns, no matter how he couched them. “Well, I’m gonna go to bed. Got an early flight, and those girls really wore me out.”

  “Sure. Throw it in my face.”

  Jason laughed. “Talk to you later, man.” He disconnected the call. Well, that was a waste of time, he thought. Still needing someone to talk to, he scrolled through the contacts on his phone: He didn’t want to call Andy (he was smarter and more serious than Eric was, but he could be such a drag to talk to, and Jason wasn’t in the mood to deal with him right now). He had rejected Emil
y earlier. He wasn’t that tight with Collin. Then he saw Sara Krason’s name in his contacts. He had forgotten that he had put her in there. Jason didn’t know why, but he felt the urge to call her, and even more inexplicable to him, he acted on that urge.

  “Jason, why are you calling me this late and on the weekend?” Sara demanded to know. He was surprised she had picked up. He had expected someone as orderly as her to be in bed by now. “Our next tutoring session isn’t until Tuesday.”

  “I . . . I just wanted to see how you were doing.” He wasn’t sure how to broach his problems.

  “So you call me at three in the morning? Are you drunk?”

  He was, actually, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. She’d probably hang up on him if he did. “No, I . . .”

  “You what, Jason? Come on, spit it out. I was in the middle of doing something important and would like to get back to it.”

  He couldn’t think of a good lie or anything cool to say, so he blurted out the truth: “I just needed someone to talk to.”

  “And you called me?” She sounded as though he was bothering her.

  “Never mind.”

  “No, wait. What did you want to talk about? Did your dad hit you again?”

  “No, nothing that major. Or at least you probably won’t think so.”

  “Jason.”

  “I’m at SCU on an official visit for football for the weekend—”

  “An official football visit?”

  “Yeah. Colleges bring top-level high-school players out to their campus for a visit and wine and dine them to try to get them to come to their school and play for them when they start college. And spare me the self-righteous rant about the double standards and preferential treatment for athletes.”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You were thinking it.”

  “I’m thinking about hanging up.”

  “No, don’t. Sorry, okay? Anyway, SCU brought me out for an official visit, and I was talking to this lady, this academic advisor, about choosing a major, you know, in case football doesn’t work out, and the thing is, I don’t have any fucking clue what to major in. The only thing I’ve ever been all that interested in is football,”—well, football, parties, and sex, but he doubted he could major in the last two—“and football might not work out. A lot of guys don’t make it to the NFL, and I saw the guys here playing, and they’re so much better than me. I don’t think—when I get to SCU next year, I don’t think I’ll be able to cut it. So . . . what do you think? Am I being a total pussy?” he asked, hoping that she didn’t make fun of him.